you can say i told you so
by Ciara2531
Summary: If you are half as smart as I think you are you will figure it out for yourself. And when you do, I promise not to say, I told you so. Oliver centric. Olicity. Shades of Oliver/Laurel.


**A/N: Hello out there. This is my first foray into the Arrow fandom so this story is probably quite rubbish. My intention was to write something angsty since it's been a while but it ended up being more of me trying to get into Oliver's head. Felicity is quite possibly a bit out of character which I am truly sorry for because I adore her. But I started this so I pressed on to finish it and figured I could get some feedback on what needs tweaking as far as characterization goes.**

**It's set in a vaguely futurish time post tonight's episode.**

* * *

"So who's next?" Felicity inquired, spinning her chair around to face Oliver.

He crossed the latest name off the list and set his notebook down. Before he could respond to her question, his cell phone rang.

"Hold that thought," Oliver said, answering the call.

"Hey," Laurel said warmly. "You on your way?"

"Out the door right now," Oliver promised. "I'll see you in 20."

"Hurry," Laurel said lightly.

Oliver hung up with a small smile on his face.

"Laurel," he explained when he noticed Felicity eyeing him curiously.

Felicity spun her chair away.

"Laurel," she repeated. "Of course it is."

Oliver frowned, sensing an edge to Felicity's tone that he hadn't heard in a long time. In fact, he didn't think he'd _ever_ heard her take that tone, certainly not with him.

"Something on your mind, Felicity?' Oliver asked.

"Not a thing," Felicity replied, her eyes focused intently on the screen in front of her.

"Felicity," Oliver said.

She could hear the warning in his voice. He was not now nor had he ever been a fan of guessing games but for the first time in a long time, Felicity didn't much care what Oliver liked or what he wanted.

"Not true," Olivier argued. "So whatever you want to say just spit it out."

Felicity turned back around to face him and then she stood up. She even opened her mouth to speak but then she pressed her lips together and shook her head. If she started talking, she wouldn't be able to stop. She'd tell Oliver the trillion and one reasons that he was an _idiot_ for thinking that his relationship with Laurel could possibly work. She'd end up spilling her guts about thoughts and feelings that she'd barely had time to wrap her head around and that she was 100 percent certain he did _not_ want to know about. She'd make a fool of herself and all because somewhere along this crazy road they'd been on since he climbed into the back of her car with a bullet in his chest, she'd made the ridiculous mistake of falling in love with him.

Felicity Smoak was not a fool and she refused to make herself vulnerable to a man who was in no shape to be careful with her heart. Instead, she picked up her purse and fixed Oliver with a determined stare.

"No," she said firmly. "If you are half as smart as I think you are, you will figure it out for yourself. And when you do, I promise not to say, I told you so."

She bit her lip – insurance against more words slipping out – and then she marched up the stairs and out of the club. Oliver watched her go and then turned to stare at Dig who had watched the whole scene in silence.

"Did I miss something?" Oliver wanted to know. "Because it feels like she's mad at me for some reason."

"Yes," Dig said. "You missed something."

Oliver arched an eyebrow but Dig didn't elaborate.

"You better get going," Dig told him. "Don't want to be late for your date with Laurel."

Oliver bit back an irritated sound but went off to change into jeans and a V-neck sweater. He was at Laurel's fifteen minutes later and they were half way through their Chinese take out dinner when Oliver realized he'd barely heard a word she said all night. His thoughts were turning Felicity's words and her attitude around over and over again trying to figure out exactly what her problem was. _His_ problem was that the more he thought about it, the less it made sense.

Felicity was one of the few people in his life who wasn't supposed to create complications. She was strong – she'd proved that more than once – and he could rely on her. She helped him with his mission and she told him the truth, never leaving him in doubt about where she stood on any given decision that he made. In return, he did his best to protect her.

But tonight something about that balance had gotten skewed and Oliver didn't have the first clue what it was. He was used to having ups and downs with Dig – they were both proud, stubborn alpha male personalities. He and Felicity though…they'd almost always been on an even keel.

"Oliver," Laurel said, apparently not for the first time. "Where are you right now?"

Oliver blinked and turned to look at her.

"Sorry," he said. "It's not important. What's important is being here. With you."

He touched her cheek gently and Laurel leaned over to kiss him. It was sweet and tender and _familiar_. Oliver felt the comfort of it wash over him immediately. This feeling was exactly what he'd craved when he'd been on the island. It was a feeling of certainty and safety. And for someone who spent a lot of time trying to protect others, the sensation of _being_ protected, from his nightmares and the demons that lived in them, was as close to priceless as it got.

Laurel tucked her head under his chin and cuddled closer.

"Do you remember that time," she began, launching into an anecdote about a camping trip that had turned into a comedy of errors. Oliver only half listened because he suddenly realized that almost all of their conversations since getting back together a few weeks ago, revolved around their past, the good parts of it, granted, but still the past. There was nothing about the present and definitely nothing about the future.

Because there was no future. The thought clanged around in Oliver's brain like the vibrations from a prison door slamming shut. He'd held on to the idea of Laurel for five years while stuck on the island and he'd denied himself the possibility of getting close to her for seven months after he came back. Holding back from her kept the ideal alive and he'd allowed the self-inflicted angst to add fuel to his determination to save Starling City.

When he'd told Laurel that she knew him better than anyone else he'd wanted her to believe it. He'd wanted to believe it himself. The illusion soothed him but it was still an illusion, a lie.

Was it at all possible that this was what Felicity had been talking about? Despite being aware that Felicity was attracted to him and cared about him there was a line she'd never crossed, areas of his life that she hadn't pried into or commented on. Would this be enough to spark the frustration and annoyance he'd clearly picked up from her?

"You're doing it again," Laurel reprimanded softly. "Where'd you go this time?"

"I have to leave," Oliver said, disentangling himself from her. "There's something I need to fix."

"Now?" Laurel asked, frowning. "Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

Oliver shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Laurel," he said.

He was apologizing for more than just his abrupt exit but she wasn't to know that. It took him 30 minutes to get to Felicity's place on his motorcycle, pit stop included.

She answered the door in an oversized Doctor Who t-shirt and with her hair haphazardly piled on top of her head. Her glasses were slightly askew and Oliver got the feeling that he might have woken her up. A glance at his watch told him that it was nearly midnight so it wasn't an unreasonable assumption.

"Why are you here?" she asked, sounding grumpy.

"To give you this," Oliver said, holding up a bottle of '05 Chateau Petrus. "And to tell you that you can go ahead and say it."

"Say what?" Felicity asked, peering more closely at the bottle. Her eyes widened when she recognized the label.

"That you told me so," Olivier said.

Felicity looked away from the bottle, her eyes narrowing on Oliver's face. She stared at him for several moments and he held her gaze.

"I promised I wouldn't," she finally said. "I try to keep my promises. Besides, I've told you a lot of things so I'm not even sure we're talking about the same thing. You could be talking about that thing I said about…"

"Felicity," Oliver interrupted. "About Laurel. You were right. Assuming that's what you were talking about earlier…"

"Oh," Felicity said. "Well yeah, that was part of it."

"The other part?" Oliver asked.

Felicity shook her head.

"Wine first," she said. "Emotional honesty much, _much_ later."

Oliver smiled as she took the bottle from him and waved him inside.

"Hey," he said.

Felicity paused on her way to the kitchen to glance at him over her shoulder.

"Thank you," Oliver said.

Felicity nodded and gave him a small smile before disappearing in search of wine glasses and a bottle opener.

Oliver settled himself on the couch and in a night full of revelations, he had one more. He'd found someplace new to feel safe.


End file.
